


Grimm's Soulmark Fairy Tales

by Sunfreckle



Series: Soulmark Fairy Tales [2]
Category: Die Gänsemagd | The Goose Girl, Die sechs Schwäne | The Six Swans, Kinder- und Hausmärchen | Grimm's Fairy Tales
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fairy Tale Parody, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fairy Tales, Soulmark AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 14:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10946904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfreckle/pseuds/Sunfreckle
Summary: A rewrite of several fairy tales by the brothers Grimm, to make them fit into a universe/society where everyone has the name of their soulmate appear on their left wrist when they are sixteen.The fairy tales will only be slightly rewritten, I want to keep them as close to the original as possible and will only change those parts of the plot that I feel would have developed differently in a society that has to deal with soulmarks being a thing. I'll try to reflect the different interpretations society might have for what the soulmarks mean (it could be the person you are to marry, someone that changes your life or your true love etc.).Part Two in my Soulmark Fairy Tales series (the Perrault installment was inspired by AMarguerite's An Ever Fixed Mark/That Looks On Tempests) and gifted to DeerShifter for her encouragement and suggestions.





	1. The Goose Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeerShifter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerShifter/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fairy tale was a bonus in my Perrault collection because I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to delete it there, but technically it belongs here now, so I'll put it here as well. So here is my rendition of “The Goose Girl” by the brothers Grimm, first published in 1815 (but only translated into English in 1826).

There once lived an old queen whose husband had been dead for many years, and she had a beautiful daughter called Margaret. Upon her sixteenth birthday the princess woke to find the name ‘William’ written upon her wrist and she ran to show her mother with nothing but glee in her heart. The queen was wary, however, for though there were many Williams in the world, it should be a rare William to be a match for her daughter. Her search for a worthy candidate was not too long, however, for soon there came an emissary from a far off kingdom, that came to enquire if there was not a very sweet and beautiful princess called Margaret in these parts. The queen and her daughter received him and heard from him that his master was a noble king, who had a most charming son, who was happily called William. He managed to cast this fine young man in such an amiable light, that the princess was more than happy to agree to be married to him. So their marriage was arranged and when the time came for the bride to meet her groom, the old queen packed up for her many costly vessels and utensils of silver and gold, and trinkets also of gold and silver, and cups and jewels, in short, everything that belonged to a royal dowry, for she loved her child with all her heart.

She likewise assigned to her a chambermaid, who was to ride with her, and deliver her into the hands of the bridegroom. This chambermaid had been born on the same day as the princess and her mother had always been a favourite of the queen. She was called ‘Peggy’ and had always lived most comfortably in the royal palace. Each young woman received a horse for the journey. The princess's horse was called Falada, and could speak. When the hour of departure had come, the old mother went into her bedroom, took a small knife and cut her fingers with it until they bled. Then she held out a small white cloth and let three drops of blood fall into it. She gave them to her daughter, saying:

"Take good care of these. They will be of service to you on your way."

Thus they sorrowfully took leave of one another. The princess tucked the cloth into her bodice, mounted her horse, and set forth for her bridegroom. After they had ridden for a while she felt a burning thirst, and said to her chambermaid:

"Dismount, and take my cup which you have brought with you for me, and get me some water from the brook, for I would like a drink."

"If you are thirsty," said the chambermaid unkindly, "get off your horse yourself, and lie down near the water and drink. I won't be your servant."

So in her great thirst the princess dismounted, bent down over the water in the brook and drank; and she was not allowed to drink out of the golden cup, for the chambermaid did not want her to dirty it. As she drank the princess sighed: "Oh, Lord," and the three drops of blood answered, "If your mother knew this, her heart would break in two."

But the king's daughter was humble. She said nothing and mounted her horse again. They rode some miles further. The day was warm, the sun beat down, and she again grew thirsty. When they came to a stream of water, she again called to her chambermaid: "Dismount, and give me some water in my golden cup," for she had long ago forgiven the girl's evil words.

But the chambermaid said still more haughtily: "If you want a drink, get it yourself. I won't be your servant."

Then in her great thirst the king's daughter dismounted, bent over the flowing water, wept, and sighed: "Oh, Lord," and the drops of blood again replied, "If your mother knew this, her heart would break in two."

As she was thus drinking, leaning over the stream, the cloth with the three drops of blood fell from her bosom and floated away with the water, without her taking notice of it, so great were her concerns. However, the chambermaid what happened, and she rejoiced to think that she now had power over the bride, for by losing the drops of blood, the princess had become weak and powerless.

When she wanted to mount her horse again, the chambermaid said: "There is no reason why you should be the one to marry the prince and not I! I am only called Peggy because I was not allowed to be Margaret while you were so called. Well, now I shall be Margaret and you shall be Peggy,” and with harsh words she ordered the princess to dismount the Falada and take off her royal gown.

Bereft of her mother’s protection the poor princess gave in to the chambermaids demands. She changed her noble mound for the chambermaid’s old nag and put on the chambermaid’s shabby clothes. She gave the chambermaid her jewels and gold bracelets, and in the end the princess had to swear under the open heaven that she would not say one word of this to anyone at the royal court. If she had not taken this oath, she would have been killed on the spot. Falada saw everything, and remembered it well. Only one thing the princess dared to do in defiance of the cruel maid. While the chambermaid was admiring her new attire, the princess cast aside the piece of cloth that had been given her to cover her soulmark. Instead she took a loose bit of coloured braid from Falada’s saddle and wound this round her wrist instead. The chambermaid was too pleased with herself to notice and soon ordered the princess to make everything ready for their continued journey.

Having thus changed places, they rode on. The chambermaid on Falada, the true bride on the bad horse, and thus they travelled until finally they arrived at the royal palace. There was great rejoicing over their arrival, and the prince ran ahead to meet them, then lifted the chambermaid from her horse, thinking she was his bride.

She was led upstairs, while the real princess was left standing below. Then the old king looked out of the window and saw her waiting in the courtyard, and noticed how fine and delicate and beautiful she was, so at once he went to the royal apartment, and asked the bride about the girl she had with her who was standing down below in the courtyard, and who she was.

"Only some common girl named Peggy. I picked her up on my way for a companion. Give her some work to do, so she won't stand idly by."

However, the old king had no work for her, and knew of nothing else to say but: "I have a little boy who tends the geese. She can help him." The boy was called Little Conrad, and the true bride was told that she had to help him tend geese.

Soon it would be time for the wedding and the conniving chambermaid shut herself up under the pretence of quiet reflection. When she was alone, however, she took off the gold band that covered her left wrist and took up a quill and ink. For on her left wrist was written the name ‘Will’, this told her deceitful heart that she truly deserved to marry the prince, but she knew that the prince and his father expected a full match and so she completed the name with a fine ink that matched the shade of the letters on her skin exactly.

The prince married the false bride and looked upon her soulmark without any suspicion. He was a little ashamed to find that he did not feel the happiness he had always believed he would feel upon meeting his true match, but for this he blamed only himself and he kissed his bride with the fair intention to love her with all his heart.

The luckless princess watched all this from a dark corner and cried as ceaselessly as any woman must, that sees her soulmate wed to another.

The old king, with great satisfaction, declared to the court that now his son had a queen to rule beside him, he would gladly let him take the throne. All congratulated the newly made king and queen and the chambermaid glowed with vanity and pride, at being made a wife and a queen on the same day.

Soon afterwards the she said to the young king, "Dearest husband, I beg you to do me a favour."

He answered, "I will do so gladly."

"Then send for the knacker, and have the head of the horse which I rode here cut off, for it angered me on the way." In truth, she was afraid that the horse might tell how she had behaved toward the king's daughter.

The prince thought it a rather ghastly request to make at a wedding feast, but he did not want to displease his bride so he granted it immediately.

Thus it happened that faithful Falada had to die. The real princess had heard them speak, however, and she secretly promised to pay the knacker a piece of gold if he would perform a small service for her. In the town there was a large dark gateway, through which she had to pass with the geese each morning and evening. Would he be so good as to nail Falada's head beneath the gateway, so that she might see him again and again?

The knacker's helper promised to do that, and cut off the head, and nailed it securely beneath the dark gateway.

Early the next morning, when she and Conrad drove out their flock beneath this gateway, she said in passing: "Alas, Falada, hanging there!"

Then the head answered:

“Alas, sweet princess, passing through,  
If this your darling mother knew,  
Her heart would surely break in two.”

Then they went still further out of the town, driving their geese into the country. At last they came to a meadow with a brook running through it and by that brook they sat down. Now the maiden saw that in the walk thither she had been splashed with mud and some of it had stained her left hand and wrist. She could not bear to think of the name of her beloved so defiled, so she began to unwind the piece of coloured braid that she might wash herself. Conrad saw what she was about and laughed:

“Yes, Peggy! Show me your mark and I promise to show you mine when I get one!” and he pretended to crane his neck to see her wrist.

She knew he was only teasing and in order to tease him back she sang:

“Blow, wind from the west!  
Do what only you do best,  
Carry Conrad’s hat with you  
He would tease me if he knew  
So let me wash my hands in peace  
And with your blowing only cease  
When the braid that I just wore  
Is wrapped around my wrist once more!”

Then all of a sudden such a strong wind came up that it blew Conrad's hat across the fields, and he had to run after it. When he came back, she had washed her hands and wrists and had tied the coloured braid securely round her wrist again. Conrad was angry at being forced to run across the fields, and suspicious that the wind should do her bidding, so he would not speak to her the rest of the day. Thus they tended the geese until evening, and then they went home.

The next morning when they were driving the geese out through the dark gateway, the maiden said: "Alas, Falada, hanging there!"

Falada answered:

“Alas, sweet princess, passing through,  
If this your darling mother knew,  
Her heart would surely break in two.”

She sat down again in the field and began unwind the braid round her wrist, that had become muddy again. When Conrad once again sprang up to tease her, she quickly said:

“Blow, wind from the west!  
Do what only you do best,  
Carry Conrad’s hat with you  
He would tease me if he knew  
So let me wash my hands in peace  
And with your blowing only cease  
When the braid that I just wore  
Is wrapped around my wrist once more!”

Then the mischievous wind blew again, taking the hat off his head and far away. Conrad had to run after it, and when he came back, she had washed both wrist and braid and was sitting with her hands folded in her lap, smiling sweetly. Conrad sulked and they tended the geese until evening.

That evening, after they had returned home, Conrad went to the old king and said: "I won't tend geese with that girl Peggy any longer."

"Why not?" asked the old king.

"Oh, because she is very strange and plays the cruellest tricks on me!"

Then the old king ordered him to tell what it was that she did to him. Conrad said: “In the morning when we pass beneath the dark gateway with the flock, there is a horse's head on the wall, and she says to it, 'Alas, Falada, hanging there!' And the head replies: ‘Alas, sweet princess, passing through, if this your darling mother knew,  her heart would surely break in two.’ I swear it does!”

Then Conrad went on to tell what happened at the goose pasture, and how he had to chase his hat.

The old king ordered him to drive his flock out again the next day. As soon as morning came, he himself sat down behind the dark gateway, and heard how the girl spoke with Falada's head. Then he followed her out into the country and hid himself in a thicket in the meadow. There he soon saw with his own eyes the goose-girl and the goose-boy bringing their flock, and how after a while she sat down by the brook and inspected her hands and wrists, which were stained with mud. Soon she said:

“Blow, wind from the west!  
Do what only you do best,  
Carry Conrad’s hat with you  
He would tease me if he knew  
So let me wash my hands in peace  
And with your blowing only cease  
When the braid that I just wore  
Is wrapped around my wrist once more!”

Then came a blast of wind and carried off Conrad's hat, so that he had to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on to wash her hands and wrists and rinse off the coloured braid she covered her soulmark with. When she was done and her wrist was safely covered up again, the wind had done and Conrad was allowed to catch his hat and return to his post. All this the king observed with great astonishment. Then, quite unseen, he went away, but he knew very well that this could be no ordinary girl. So when the goose-girl came home in the evening, he called her aside, and asked why she did all these things.

"I am not allowed to tell you,” she sighed sorrowfully. “Nor can I reveal my sorrows to any human being, for I have sworn under the open heaven not to do so, and if I had not so sworn, I would have been killed."

He urged her and left her no peace, but he could get nothing from her. Finally he said, "If you will not tell me anything, then tell your sorrows to the iron stove there," and he went away.

The suffering princess did feel how her secrets weighed on her heart, and she so wished to confide in someone, that she followed the old king’s advice. So she crept into the iron stove, and began to cry sorrowfully, pouring out her whole heart. She wept: "Here I sit, abandoned by the whole world, although I am prince Margaret, the daughter of a king and queen. My chambermaid forced me to take off my royal clothes and she had my dear Falada put to death! She has even stolen my name and given me hers and has taken my place with the man whose name is written on my wrist. Now she is queen and I have to do common work as a goose-girl. If my darling mother knew this, her heart would surely break in two."

The old king was standing outside listening by the stovepipe, and he heard all that she said. At first he grew pale, then he wept and then he trembled with anger. When her sobbing finally grew silent, he calmed himself and went back inside. In the kindest, gentlest voice imaginable he asked her to come out of the stove and the princess obeyed. The king immediately had her dressed in royal clothes, and it was marvellous how beautiful she was.

The old king summoned his son, who was looking not at all like a newlywed husband ought to look, so dejected and dull were his eyes. The princess’ heart cried out and if she had dared, she would have rushed towards him to comfort him, but she stayed very quiet and stood quit still.

“My son,” the old king said gravely. “You are not happy.”

“Forgive me father,” his son sighed. “I am not.”

“I have not called you here to scold you,” his father said feelingly. “Merely to tell you that you have been deceived and made to marry a false bride, who is certainly not your soulmate.”

The young king’s astonishment was great, but it was not equal to his relief, for he had felt all along that something had been dreadfully wrong.

“The woman that calls herself your queen is but a chambermaid. Your true bride is standing over there, she is the young woman made to be a goose-girl.”

Now the princess dared to step forward and the young king looked at her with great admiration and equal embarrassment. With trembling voices were the names “Margaret” and “William” pronounced and the hearts of both filled with the happiness that only a true match can grant. The young king could have wept for joy. Here was his soulmate, his true bride, and a woman with unparalleled beauty and virtue.

The old king ordered that a great feast was to be made ready and everyone of note was invited. At the head of the table sat the bridegroom with the king's daughter on one side of him, and the chambermaid on the other. However, the chambermaid was deceived, for she did not recognize the princess in her dazzling attire.

After they had eaten and drunk, and were in a good mood, the old king rose to his feet and addressed the court in the following manner:

“Consider, dear friends, that there had been a woman so devoid of honour and feeling, that she was determined to steal the good fortune of another, this other too, a woman of kind heart and good virtue, who had never shown her anything but kindness. Suppose that this false woman had succeeded, through trickery and deceit, to steal this maiden’s fortune, name and title, and carried her point so far as to turn against her own soulmark and to usurp the soulmate of this other maiden. What sentence does such a person deserve?"

A great many mutterings were uttered and many a head shook in bitter disapproval. Finally the old king turned to the false bride and said: “What say you, how must such a woman be treated?”

The chambermaid had listened to his story without once changing colour, and now she answered brazenly: "She deserves no better fate than to be stripped stark naked, and put in a barrel that is studded inside with sharp nails. Two white horses should be hitched to it, and they should drag her along through one street after another, until she is dead."

"You are the one," said the old king, "and you have pronounced your own sentence. Thus shall it be done to you and my son shall be married at last to the woman that deserves him and that is his true match.”

All the court was in an uproar, but princess Margaret and young king William heard not a word of all the commotion. They looked only at each other and if they saw anyone besides, it was by good luck, for they certainly did not mean to.

After the sentence had been carried out and the deceitful chambermaid had been punished, the young king married his true bride. Standing side by side at the altar, they were presented with a bowl of the clearest water and while all averted their eyes, they lovingly washed each other’s hands and wrists. With a cloth of the finest linen they wiped away the water and their tears of joy and when they had closed the gold bands around each other’s wrists they were finally joined as one. All the misery of the past days faded away instantly and both of them ruled over their kingdom in peace and happiness for the rest of their days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my sister who proofread this (and Sleeping Beauty) and reminded me that “Peggy” is short for “Margaret” when I was looking for names that have nicknames that sound completely different. Original text from http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm089.html


	2. The Six Swans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to DeerShifter, who asked for the soulmark version of this story and encouraged me to start on the Grimms after Perrault’s fairy tales. I hope you like it! (Once again, this story is a lot darker than I remembered it being…)

A king, who had married young, but had been widowed far too soon, was once hunting in a great forest. So eagerly he chased his prey that none of his men could follow him. As evening approached he stopped he lost sight of the doe that he had so wildly pursued and upon looking around, he realized that he was lost. He looked for a way out of the woods, but he could not find one. Not a single path was there between the trees and he began to grow hopeless, when he spied an old woman with a bobbing head who approached him smilingly. She was a witch, but the king could not know this and did not suspect her.

"My dear woman," he said to her. “Can you show me the way through the woods?"

"Oh, yes, your majesty," she answered. "I can indeed. However, there is one condition, and if you do not fulfil it, you will never get out of these woods, and will die here of hunger."

He heard in the edge of her voice that she spoke in earnest and the king asked: "What sort of condition is it?"

“I wish to see the mark upon your wrist,” the with spoke impertinently. “For I have a daughter, who is as beautiful as anyone you could find in all the world, and whose own mark matches your name, your Highness. If your wrist reads her name, she deserves to become your wife."

The king did not like these demands at all, but he had had a wife, a good kind woman that he still loved with all his heart. They had been a true match, that had been clear as day and the king did not believe himself in danger now. So he consented and took the leather cuff from his wrist, showing the old woman the name that was writ there.

“Tis my daughters very name!” the witch crowed triumphantly. “I shall lead you to our cottage.”

Too frightened to resist, the king followed her deeper into the woods. What else was he to do? He did not know the way home. They arrived at a small cottage among the trees and inside the witches’ daughter was sitting by the fire. She received the king as if she had been expecting him. He saw that she was very beautiful, but in spite of this he did not like her, and he could not look at her without secretly shuddering. When she rose from her seat he could plainly see both her wrists were uncovered and the king attempted to avert his eyes, but the witches’ daughter spoke:

“You need not be shy of your future wife,” and she showed him his own name, written clearly on her smooth, pale skin.

So the king submitted and lifted the girl onto his horse. Her mother pointed the direction in which he must ride and his new bride told him what path to take until they arrived again at his royal castle. There, she was introduced to the court as his bride and future queen, and the wedding was prepared and celebrated.

Now it was so that the king had, by his first marriage, seven royal children. When previously said that he still loved his late wife with all his heart, it must be added that he loved her with as much as his heart as could be spared from the seven children. For these joys of his existence, six boys and one girl, he loved more than anything else in the world.

Fearing that the stepmother might not treat them well, even do them harm, the king hid his children away. With the youngest prince being fifteen and the eldest, the princess, having just turned one and twenty, the king trusted them to look after each other and brought them to a secluded castle which stood in the middle of a forest. It was so well hidden, and the way was so difficult to find, that he himself would not have found it, if a wise woman had not given him a ball of magic yarn. Whenever he threw it down in front of him, it would unwind itself and show him the way.

Having done all this before the wedding even took place and with all the courtiers sworn to secrecy, the new queen did not even know her husband had any children by his previous wife. However, the king went out to his dear children so often that the queen took notice of his absence. She was curious and wanted to know what he was doing out there all alone in the woods. She gave a large sum of money to his servants, and they revealed the secret to her. They also told her about the ball of yarn which could point out the way all by itself.

She did not rest until she discovered where the king kept the ball of yarn. Then she made some little shirts of white silk. Having learned the art of witchcraft from her mother, she sewed a magic charm into each one of them. Then one day when the king had ridden out hunting, she took the little shirts and went into the woods. The ball of yarn showed her the way.

The princes, seeing that someone was approaching from afar, thought that their dear father was coming to them. Full of joy, they ran to meet him. Then she threw one of the shirts over each of them, and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans, and they flew away over the woods.

The queen went home very pleased, believing that she had gotten rid of her stepchildren. However, the princess had not run out with her brothers, and the queen knew nothing about her.

The next day the king went to visit his children, but he found no one there but his daughter.

"Where are your brothers?" asked the king.

"Oh, dear father," she answered in great distress. “They have gone away and left me alone."

Then she told him that from her window she had seen how her brothers had flown away over the woods as swans. She showed him the feathers that they had dropped into the courtyard, and which she had gathered up.

The king mourned, but he did not think that the queen had done this wicked deed and his daughter had not been able to see her face. Fearing that the girl would be stolen away from him as well, the king wanted to take her away with him, but she was afraid of her stepmother and begged her father to let her stay just this one more night in the castle in the woods.

The poor girl thought: "I can no longer stay here. I will go and look for my brothers."

So when night came she ran away and went straight into the woods. She walked the whole night long without stopping, and the next day as well, until she was too tired to walk any further.

Then she saw a hunter's hut and went inside. She found a room with six beds, but she did not dare to get into one of them. Instead she crawled under one of them and lay down on the hard ground where she intended to spend the night.

The sun was about to go down when she heard a rushing sound and saw six swans fly in through the window. Landing on the floor, they blew on one another, and blew all their feathers off. Then their swan-skins came off just like shirts. The girl looked at them and recognized her younger brothers. She was happy and crawled out from beneath the bed. The brothers were no less happy to see their beloved older sister, but their happiness did not last long.

"You cannot stay here," they said to her. "This is a robbers' den. If they come home and find you, they will murder you."

"Can't you protect me?" asked their sister.

"No," they answered. "We can take off our swan skins for only a quarter hour each evening. Only during that time do we have our human forms. After that we are again transformed into swans."

This made their sister sit down sobbing and she pleaded: "Can you not be redeemed?"

"Alas, no," they answered. "The conditions are too difficult. You would not be allowed to speak or to laugh for six years, and in that time you would have to sew together six little shirts from asters for us. And if a single word were to come from your mouth, all your work would be lost."

After the brothers had said this, the quarter-hour was over, and they flew out the window again as swans.

Nevertheless, the girl firmly resolved to redeem her brothers, even if it should cost her her life. She left the hunter's hut, went to the middle of the woods, seated herself in a tree, and there spent the night. The next morning she went out and gathered asters and began to sew. She could not speak with anyone, and she had no desire to laugh. She sat there, looking only at her work.

After she had already spent a long time there, it happened that the young king of the neighbouring land was hunting in these woods. His huntsmen came to the tree where the girl was sitting. Looking up, they were very much surprised to see such a pretty girl in such fine clothes.

They called to her, saying: "Who are you?" But she did not answer.

"Come down to us," they said. "We will not harm you."

She only shook her head. When they pressed her further with questions, she threw her golden necklace down to them, thinking that this would satisfy them. But they did not stop, to see she had such finery only made them more curious. So the princess took off her beautiful belt and threw that down to them. When did this not help she threw down her silk garters and then – one thing after the other – she threw down everything she felt she could do without. In the end she had nothing left but her shift and the white satin ribbon round her left wrist.

It was under these circumstances that the young king, who had long been wondering where his companions had gone, came upon the scene. With great surprise he saw how his huntsmen were standing at the foot of a tree, all strewn about with woman’s finery, and up in that same tree a beautiful young woman, busily at work sewing asters.

“What has happened here?” he spoke in dismay. “That you have made a woman throw off her clothes and flee into a tree?”

Hastily the huntsmen protested that the young woman had already been in the tree when they found her and that they had not asked her to throw down her finery, but merely asked her who she was. Because, they pointed out, it was very extraordinary for finely clad women to be up in trees.

“Indeed it is,” the young king nodded. “But even more extraordinary to see them sewing together asters as if they were patches of linen.”

He ordered his men to gather all the cast down garments and he himself went to stand at the foot of the tree.

“Forgive us for disturbing you,” he said kindly. “But will you not tell me who you are? And what are you doing in that tree?”

The girl glanced at him, but did not answer. The young king had a kind face and an even kinder voice, but his huntsmen had been loud and she must not be distracted from her sewing.

“Will you not come down from there?” he pleaded.

The girl shook her head.

“Will you allow me to climb up to where you are?” the young king offered.

After a moment she answered this with a nod and before his companions could stop him, the king had climbed in the tree to speak to the strange and beautiful girl that was sewing asters. To speak to her was all he could do, for she still would not answer him. He asked her who she was in every language that he knew, but she remained as speechless as a fish. Her smiles were so gentle, however, her features so noble and the look in her eyes so soft and melancholy, that the king’s heart was touched and he fell deeply in love with her. He thought of the name that had been written on his wrist since the day he turned sixteen and wished with all his heart that he could find out what this girl’s name was.

The princess meanwhile, was suffering in silence, for although she was determined not to say a word, she wished she could. The longer she stayed silent, the more desperate and pleading the king’s words became and all she could do was smile and nod and shake her head.

Finally the king begged her: “Let me take you to my court. You need not speak to me or anyone and I shall have my men carry as many asters back with us as you wish, but do not make me leave you behind here, in the woods, where there are all manner of wild men and beasts about.”

Moved by his words the princess nodded her consent and when the king climbed down, she followed him. When they were once again safely on the ground, he wrapped his cloak around her, lifted her onto his horse in front of himself, and took her to his castle. There he gave her an entire room to fill with asters, rich garments to dress herself in and maids to wait on her. He would have given her anything she asked for, but she asked for nothing, she was silent. And even when she was dressed so finely her beauty glistened like bright daylight, she still did not put down her sewing.

She only put it down, when the king invited her to dinner. At the fine table he seated her by his side, and her modest manners and courtesy pleased him so much that he felt his heart to be truly lost forever. So much did he love her, that he could not believe her to be anyone else but his soulmate. But how was he to find out if she was?

In a moment of inspiration he took up his glass and said: “A toast, to my mother, whom I owe my life to.”

The old queen smiled, highly gratified and everyone drank to the Queen Mother and to mothers in general with great good humour. When the glasses had been lowered again, the Queen Mother returned the toast, saying:

“To my son, who will lead this kingdom in even greater prosperity than his father before him.”

But before the rest of the company could join her, her son said hastily: “If you shall drink to me mother, do it by speaking my real name, the name that you yourself gave me.”

His mother smiled and repeated her toast, this time using his own name, and everyone followed merrily. But the young king did not hear the toast and neither did he see his mother’s smile, he was looking at the silent girl, who had gone as red as a rose beside him. This he took a proof that her mark at least was indeed the name she had just heard spoken and when the company left the table, he took the opportunity of following her.

“Please,” he begged. “I would never ask anything untoward of you, and I will not make you speak, but I cannot live without knowing your name!”

The silent princess looked at him in agony, because the name on her wrist felt as if it was burning its way through her ribbon and she wanted to tell him her name more than anything, but she couldn’t.

“You need not tell me,” the king said solemnly. “But if you’ll allow me…” And with beating heart he took off the leather cuff on his hand and showed her his soulmark. “Is that your name?” he asked.

And the girl’s eyes filled with tears of joy, because it was. She wanted to speak, she wanted to laugh, she wanted to shout for joy. But then she thought of her brothers and the tears of joy mingled with tears of sadness and instead of speaking her happiness she nodded silently. She gave the king a pleading look and, all other ways of communicating closed to her, she untied the ribbon from her wrist and showed him his own name.

Now the young king laughed and shouted for joy loud enough for both of them. “My desire is to marry you, and no one else in the world!” he declared and she nodded her consent, swallowing the thousands words she might have said on this occasion.

Still, the entire court soon learned of the young king’s happiness and exactly seven days later they were married.

Now of course the courtiers and the people of the land, thought it was very strange that their king married a young woman that no one knew, that did not speak, and that spent most of her time sewing together asters in her sewing room. But she was as sweet tempered as she was beautiful and the king loved her and that was enough for all that followed him.

All, except the king’s mother. She was a proud, disagreeable woman, who was dissatisfied with this marriage and spoke nothing but ill of the young queen. "Who knows," she said. “Where the girl who cannot speak comes from? She is not worthy of a king!"

Neither sweetness of temper, well-bred manners, beauty, or even matching marks could move her. She was determined to hate the young queen.

A year later, after the queen had brought her first child into the world, the wicked old woman took it away from her while she was asleep, and smeared her mouth with blood. Then she ran to the king and accused his wife of eating their child. The king was horrified, but refused to believe her. Despite his grief over the loss of his child, he would not allow anyone to harm his wife.

The young queen fled to her sewing room and cried soundlessly on the asters she sewed into shirts for seven weeks.

The next time, when she again gave birth to a beautiful boy, the deceitful mother-in-law did the same thing again, but the king could not bring himself to believe her accusations.

He said, voice nearly strangled with grief: "She is too pious and good to do anything like that. If she were not speechless, and if she could defend herself, her innocence would come to light."

His wife could do nothing but press his hand and under the glare of the jealous queen other she fled to her sewing room again, sewing her asters and crying for another seven weeks without making a sound.

When the months passed and the queen was once again with child, the king was deathly afraid. He watched over his wife and when the child was born, he sat up with her all night. Neither king nor queen closed their eyes for a moment, they kept their gazes fixed on their child and they held each other tight. But sleep comes on silk feet so that one does not hear it coming and without realizing it, the tired parents drifted off.

No sooner were they fast asleep or the hateful Queen Mother stole into the room, took their baby and once again smeared the young queen’s mouth with blood. Imagine their horror when they woke. The king screamed his sorrow, but his wife’s tears were silent as always.

“See,” the Queen Mother said triumphantly. “She does not even mourn her lost children. She has murdered them all!”

The king begged his wife to defend herself. To speak finally and testify to her innocence, but she merely shook her head and wrung her hands. Now the king could no longer hold up against the united accusations of the court and he allowed them to carry his wife off to the dungeon. And since she was allowed to have the aster shirts and all her sewing materials there, the young queen did not resist. She sat and sewed in silence, crying all the while, but never losing her resolve.

For the crime of murdering and devouring her three royal children the young queen was sentenced to die by fire and the young king cried as much for her as he had for the babies they had lost.

When the day came for the sentence to be carried out, it was also the last day of the six years during which the princess had not been permitted to speak or to laugh, and she had thus nearly delivered her dear brothers from the magic curse. The six aster shirts were finished. Only the left sleeve of the last one was missing. When she was led to the stake, she laid the five finished shirts on her arm, still sewing on the sixth one as she walked.

The king averted his eyes when they forced her onto the pyre, but the young queen looked up at the sky with nothing but hope I her eyes. Sure enough, six swans came soaring through the sky, their white wings dazzling in the sunlight. Knowing that their redemption was finally near, her heart leapt with joy.

Before the fire could be lit, the swans rushed towards her, swooping down and spreading their wings to shield her. The executioners cried out in fear and awe and the young king sprang to his feet.

“It is an omen!” he cried. “No one is to harm my wife!”

No one answered him, however, for at that moment the young queen threw the aster shirts over the swans and as soon as the shirts touched them their feathers fell off them and clad the pyre in down. Where six swans had been, now stood six princes, young, strong and handsome.

“My brothers!” cried the young queen, her voice ringing out like a bell. “My dear, dear brothers.” And she embraced them all, with such smiles and pearls of laughter that it seemed a fire had been lit after all, so much warmth was spread all around.

Only when she saw her youngest brother, her smile faltered. Because as his shirt had not been quite finished he was still missing his left arm. In its place he had a swan’s wing.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” his sister mourned. “Had I only sewn a little faster, had I only started on the left sleeve instead of the right!”

For now her brother, having been only fifteen when last fully human, would never know his soulmark. But the youngest prince held his sister tight and said sincerely:

“You have saved us all, dear sister and you shall not feel guilty now! I have no need of a soulmark, I wish for nothing but the family that I love.”

This made the young queen think of her own family and she turned to face her husband and to finally share with him, through words, all of happiness and grief that they had lived through. The young king looked at her in wonder, and she began to speak, saying: "Dearest husband, now I may speak and reveal to you that I am innocent, and falsely accused."

But before she could speak another word, the wicked queen mother shrieked:

“The false bride is a witch! You have all seen how she gave six beasts the shape of men! The sentence must stand! She shall die by fire!”

But now the eldest prince stepped forward, staring down on the wicked woman with contempt. “If any woman deserves to burn,” he spoke. “It is you, who tormented our beloved sister, your son’s faithful wife. You, who took the three babies she bore and accused her of taking their lives!”

For the Queen Mother, wicked as she was, had not smeared her daughter-in-law’s mouth with the blood of her children. Instead, she had used the blood of the animals that were killed in the kitchens and had cast the newborn children into the lake in the palace gardens, intending to drown them. And they would have surely drowned, had that lake not always been dotted with swans, sparkling white on the water like lilies in bloom.

The princes brought the king and queen to the lake, where there were now six fewer swans swimming about, and the three youngest ran into the reeds, emerging with the three royal children.

Never had there been such tears of joy as the young king and queen now wept. They kissed their children over and over and their mother, finally able to speak, called them by their names again and again. The young king wiped his eyes and listened to the voice of his wife, held his children and shook his brothers’ hands as if he would never do anything else. But finally he grew solemn and he took them all back to the castle, where he sentenced his wicked mother to death.

She, for all the evil she had done, was burned at the stake that she had intended for her daughter-in-law. When she had been burned to ashes, the king, the queen, her six brothers and the three royal children suddenly felt a great lightness was over them, for with her life their suffering had ended.

They returned home and now his wife could explain who she was, the young king immediately sent a messenger to the neighbouring kingdom to tell the old king what had become of his children. And so there was to be another family reunion, for the father of the seven royal children came back with the messenger. His hair had gone white with grief, but his whole face was lit up with joy when he saw his children once more. His wicked witch of a wife had left him years ago, dissatisfied with a husband that could not look at her without crying for the wife and children he had lost, and now he had his seven children, a son-in-law and three grandchildren to console him.

Nothing, therefore, could prevent the two royal families from considering themselves truly united. The princes went back with their father and the young queen brought up her three healthy children, ruling beside her husband, who loved her as much as her father had loved her mother. They had all suffered and now they were all rewarded, with a loving family, a happy home and nothing but peace and joy for the rest of their days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DeerShifter pointed out the mute heroine and the brother that never completely changed back would be interesting in a soulmark verse and I completely agree! I hope I have done this rather complex tale justice. 
> 
> Original text taken from: http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm049.html  
> But I could not resist giving the young king a little more personality (which made the fairy tale a whole lot longer) and changing the princess to the oldest instead of the youngest child. The original also does not reunite the princess and princes with their father, which is unacceptable! Some of the details I added here and there are inspired by Jim Henson’s version of this story “The Three Ravens”.


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